Three Days
by MasterofNaps
Summary: An alternate ending, if you will.  Maybe after having written this, I will be able to sleep tonight :   R&R please!


A/N: I really thought in that finale that Maura was gonna take the bullet for Jane, but I guess they can't have preggers Sasha go diving down steps :/ So here's my take, parts of it are kinda vague, but I needed to get it out so I could sleep tonight xD

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, blada blada blah. Hurry up and be summer again please :)

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Never in her life had Maura Isles known pain like this before. She'd experienced rejection in every form, had felt her heart crack into little tiny pieces, had grown up with the name calling and the teasing, but never in her thirty one years had she actually felt like this. The ground should have been cold and rough, but somehow it was a comforting to lie still for a moment. The adrenaline she'd experienced in the last hour had tensed every muscle in her body, and despite the bullet lodged somewhere in her torso, she somehow felt herself relaxing enough to let her head loll to the side. Two thoughts passed through her otherwise vacant mind now, the first being how disappointed she was that blood was now surely seeping through the Marc Jacobs blouse she'd bought just two days ago. The second, and much more important thought, was of Jane. Laying in a seemingly relaxed stance on the pavement outside Boston's Police Headquarters, Maura Isles thought of Jane. She thought of the fear written across the woman's face as the shooter held her close, and of the love and angst she'd seen only moments before as they stood over Frankie's body. Visions danced before Maura's eyes, and even in a semi-conscious state, she knew they couldn't possibly be real. Jane strolling towards her, that sarcastic grin on her face, and two cups of coffee in her hands. Bass eating British strawberries out of her hand. It all seemed so real, but even with a bullet in her, Maura was still logical.

She didn't know what time it was. Was she still on the pavement? God she was comfortable. Maura had seen so many shooting victims writhe in pain and end up dead on her table. Was this what they had felt like? Another thought popped into the doctor's head. Who would be doing her autopsy? Surely they wouldn't let somebody inexperienced perform it. No, Jane wouldn't allow that. Oh god, Jane. In a flash, the brunette's face filled her visions again. What would Jane feel tomorrow when she came into work without Maura? They always walked into work together; it was a tradition as old as any of those baseball teams Jane watched all the time. Maura was fairly certain her heart hadn't been pierced by the bullet, so why did she feel such pain in her chest cavity? Again Jane's face dangled in front of her eyes like some sort of enticing treat. Maura would never get the chance to tell her best friend that she loved her. Love was not something Maura took lightly, given the fact that you could not pinpoint its' exact location, nor could you dissect it, or store it for further review. Love was felt, and Maura had never been good with feelings. But there was no doubting this, Maura knew.

Occasional flashes of light interrupted her visions. Jane's head blurred in front of a spotlight so intense it drowned out all the woman's features. Maura wished that the dead could wear sunglasses. Surely she was dead now. The pain was nonexistent, and there was no pain in death she knew. Only the living felt pain, and that was one thing Maura would not miss about the world of the living. Her colleagues called her 'Queen of the Dead', and Dr. Isles was prepared to rightfully assume her throne.

It was with a great gasp of air that she returned to the living, and immediately all previous thoughts of relaxation were gone. Her eyes widened until they could no more, every muscle tensed, and as Maura tried to breathe, she could barely register the blood running from her gaped mouth. People were shouting around her, as if the one with the loudest voice would win. Maura wasn't religious, but she prayed that Jane was among the blurred faces she could barely pick out standing above her. Wait, were they moving? The flashing lights returned, and if she hadn't been so concerned about other things, Maura would've squinted. Pain now coursed through her body like an acid bath, making her body shake uncontrollably. The voices shouted again, and Maura suddenly felt very dizzy. A face grew close to hers, though she still couldn't distinguish faces. More shouting, the words blending together like a well made smoothie. And just like that, the pain was gone again. The pleasant images returned, shifting from one to the next, teasing her as if she were just close enough to reach them, but one millimeter out of range. That day she'd won the state science fair at six years old. The day she graduated high school three years early. The paper she'd written that had been recited to a crowd of two hundred distinguished doctors. The day she'd met Jane. Maura wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. She would miss these things. Did the dead even have memories anymore? Would she be able to recall all these wonderful events in her life once she had passed over? Would she forget Jane?

Another great gasp of air, and Maura awoke again, this time prepared for the violent lurch out of her dream world back in reality. Whatever she was laying on now was nowhere near as comfortable as the pavement outside had been. Was she inside now? Was the shooter dead? And Frankie, was he ok? The pain flowed freely again, and this time Maura could not hold back the tears it made her create. God it was horrible, there was no worse thing in the world than this feeling now. The voices all seemed to be in her head now, each one of them screaming at her to do something, get out of bed, help someone, and get a drink of water. Maura felt as if her head might explode from the tension, but the only sound she managed to emit was a hardly audible moan. Even so, it was enough to alert Jane Rizzoli, and Maura took a second to make out the woman's features now that they weren't obscured, only slightly fuzzy around the edges. Jane's usually free flowing hair was swept back, and the detective looked like she hadn't slept in days, weeks even. Her face was dark, her eyes barely able to be seen amidst the dark circles below them. Her shirt, what Maura could make out of it anyway, was wrinkled. Maura felt a hand grasp hers, and she tried to squeeze it, not knowing whether she would succeed or not. She saw Jane's face transform into a smile, her expression wiping away all evidence of hurt and fear.

"Maura sweetie, can you hear me?"

The doctor just blinked a few times, feeling as if she had no control over her body whatsoever. She wanted to run, take Jane in her arms, swing her around, and laugh with her again like they used to. Would she ever be able to do that again? The hand wrapped in hers was shaking, but Maura didn't know whether it was her that was quivering so much, or Jane. Another hand touched her face, but Maura couldn't see it, only felt its' presence wipe away a tear she hadn't felt coming.

"It's gonna be ok now, it's all gonna be fine."

Maura didn't know if the words were the truth, or if Jane was just trying to make them both feel better, but she did appreciate hearing a voice she could recognize. Jane's hand stroked her forehead, brushing hair from her face and wet tears from her cheeks. Maura wished she could lean into the comforting touch, and smile to let Jane know it was ok to be intimate like this. But all she could do was lie there, her eyes on the brunette's. And that was how Jane knew that Maura could hear her.

Two days later and Maura learned the whole story. The shooter had spun in time to see her run down the steps of the Department, and the one round he'd fired in an attempt to stop her had been enough distraction for the S.W.A.T team to fire. As Maura fell to the ground, one round placed solidly in her stomach, Jane had sprung free, and the shooter had collapsed with six shots to the back of the head. Jane told Maura of the two days she'd spent in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherent things about Bass. Silently Maura thanked God that nothing embarrassing about Jane had slipped out in her mumbles. For three days she'd been in the hospital, situated in the room next to Frankie's so Jane could move between the two easily. As Jane's cell went off, the brunette rose, placed a gentle kiss to Maura's forehead, and exited out into the hallway with a smile on her face. Maura was already in a lot of pain, she didn't need to feel the embarrassment of knowing she'd said a lot of things that would really be considered inappropriate about Jane while she was under. Jane went red with blush thinking about them, but kept them to herself. Maybe later she'd reveal to Maura what had been said in those two days, but for now, she'd let the Doc rest and regain her strength. Jane owed her a great debt for saving her life, and embarrassing the hell out of her was in no way a fair payback.


End file.
